Lots of newborn decorations come in black and white, so that young babies can better see the shapes. But just because it’s easier for babies to see bold blacks and whites doesn’t mean they can’t see color.

Very few studies of color vision in newborns exist, says Anna Franklin, a color researcher at the University of Sussex in England. “But those that have been conducted suggest that newborns can see some color, even if their color vision is limited,” she says. Newborns may not be great at distinguishing maroon from scarlet, but they can certainly see a vivid red.

But as babies get a little older, they get remarkably adept at discerning the world’s palette, new research shows. Babies ages 4 months to 6 months old are able to sort colors into five categories, researchers report in the May 23 Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

These preverbal color capabilities offer insight into something scientists have long wondered: Without words for individual colors, how do babies divvy up the hues across the color wheel, telling when blue turns to green, for instance?

Along with Franklin and colleagues, psychologist Alice Skelton, also of the University of Sussex, bravely approached this question. The team coaxed 179 4- to 6-month-old babies to calmly and repeatedly look at two squares, each 1 of 14 various colors.

After showing babies two squares of the same color over and over, the researchers made one of the squares a new color. Gazing at the new hue longer was a sign that the baby recognized the color as new. In this meticulous way, the researchers worked their way around the entire color wheel for each baby.

The experiment required stamina, from both Skelton and the young participants. “Sometimes you can have whole weeks where the babies just don’t want to do it,” she says. Despite that, she found the process enjoyable: “Babies are nice people.”
Babies, like adults, bin hues into red, yellow, green, blue and purple, Skelton and her colleagues found. “Given the commonalities and patterns you see in the way that languages divide up the color spectrum, we did expect that we would see some evidence of these same patterns in the way babies divide up the spectrum,” Skelton says. “What was surprising, for me at least, was how nicely it fell out.”

That discernment comes even though the babies probably don’t know the words for the colors. This suggests that babies are most likely born with these categories preprogrammed in their brains. The babies in the study came from just one culture. But “we anticipate that infants from different cultures would categorize color similarly,” Franklin says.

The results offer an interesting window into what’s happening in a baby’s brain as she learns about her world. And the results also come with a gentle suggestion: Don’t restrict your newborn’s art to black and white. She may already harbor a fondness for blue.

Acting like miniature trees that soak up sunlight and release oxygen, photosynthetic bacteria injected into the heart may lighten the damage from heart attacks, a new study in rats suggests.

When researchers injected the bacteria into rats’ hearts, the microbes restored oxygen to heart tissue after blood supply was cut off as in a heart attack, researchers at Stanford University report June 14 in Science Advances.

“It’s really out of the box,” says Himadri Pakrasi, a systems biologist at Washington University in St. Louis who was not involved in the research. “It reads like science fiction to me, but it’s fantastic if it works.”
The organism, called Synechococcus elongatus, has been used recently to produce biofuels, but this may be the first time the cyanobacteria have ever been used in a medical setting, he says.

Other researchers also reacted enthusiastically to the study. “It’s outrageous, but outrageous in a good way,” says Susan Golden, who studies cyanobacteria at the University of California, San Diego. Cardiovascular scientist Matthias Nahrendorf of Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston says, “I enjoy the idea. It’s really fresh.”

Bringing oxygen to starved tissues is what Stanford cardiovascular surgeon Joseph Woo had in mind when he and colleagues dreamed up the plan to put light-harvesting bacteria into the heart. In a heart attack, clogged arteries or blood clots cut off blood flow to the organ. Without oxygen supplied by the blood, heart cells die.

Woo wanted a way for the heart to make its own oxygen or access another supply until doctors could open blocked vessels and restore blood flow. Plants make oxygen from carbon dioxide and sunlight, so Woo wondered, “Why not bring the tree to your heart?”

He and colleagues started by grinding up kale and spinach to harvest chloroplasts, the organelles within plant cells that carry out photosynthesis. But the chloroplasts didn’t survive outside the cells. That’s when the researchers learned about S. elongatus, a photosynthetic organism that Golden and other researchers have long used to study circadian rhythms.
After finding that cyanobacteria could provide oxygen to heart cells in a lab dish, the next step was to see how the cyanobacteria would fare in an animal. The researchers stopped blood flow to part of rats’ hearts and after 15 minutes injected either cyanobacteria or a saline solution. Oxygen in tissue with bacteria increased to about three times the levels measured right after the heart attack, similar to what saline-treated rats experienced.
That was in the dark: When researchers exposed the heart to light, rats that got the bacteria had 25 times higher oxygen levels than they did after the heart attack. Four weeks after the treatment, these rats had less heart damage than untreated rodents, indicating long-term benefits. In fact, the hearts of photosynthesis-treated rats were beating strongly: Blood flow out of the heart was 30 percent higher in rats treated with cyanobacteria and light than those treated with the bacteria in the dark. That extra blood flow could make the difference between life and death for some patients, Woo says. The results indicate that the bacteria need light to supply heart cells with enough oxygen to stave off damage. That presents a difficulty if the cyanobacteria are ever to be used in people: Getting light into the heart is a major hurdle.

“It will be next to impossible to open the chest to light,” says Nahrendorf. “A day on the beach won’t do the trick.” Woo says the researchers are working with engineers at Stanford to make devices that can shine light through bones and skin to reach the heart and other deep tissues.

Injecting bacteria into the heart is also a risky proposition. “What you’re doing is infecting a tissue, and that’s rarely a good thing,” says Nahrendorf. But the cyanobacteria were cleared from the rats’ bodies within 24 hours and didn’t provoke the immune system to attack the heart, the researchers found. Some other cyanobacteria produce toxins, says Golden. “But this organism is benign,” she says.

Cyanobacteria might also supply oxygen to tissues in other diseases, such as brain injuries, strokes or nonhealing wounds in people with diabetes, says Arnar Geirsson, a cardiovascular scientist at Yale University. Photosynthetic bacteria might also help preserve organs for transplant.

“I’m quite impressed,” Geirsson says. “It’s a really unique way to deliver oxygen.”

Remains of at least two Late Bronze Age initiation ceremonies, in which teenage boys became warriors by eating dogs and wolves, have turned up in southwestern Russia, two archaeologists say. The controversial finds, which date to between roughly 3,900 and 3,700 years ago, may provide the first archaeological evidence of adolescent male war bands described in ancient texts.

Select boys of the Srubnaya, or Timber Grave, culture joined youth war bands in winter rites, where they symbolically became dogs and wolves by consuming canine flesh, contend David Anthony and Dorcas Brown, both of Hartwick College in Oneonta, N.Y. This type of initiation ceremony coincides with myths recorded in texts from as early as roughly 2,000 years ago by speakers of Indo-European languages across Eurasia, the researchers report in the December Journal of Anthropological Archaeology.
Those myths link dogs and wolves to youthful male war bands, warfare and death. In the ancient accounts, young warriors assumed names containing words for dogs or wolves, wore dog or wolf skins and, in some cases, ate dogs during initiation ceremonies.

Mythic themes involving dogs from 2,000 years ago may differ from the rites practiced 4,000 years ago, Anthony acknowledges. “But we should look at myths across Eurasia to understand this archaeological site,” he says.
But some researchers are unconvinced by the pair’s explanation for why at least 64 dogs and wolves were sacrificed at the Krasnosamarskoe settlement.
“Archaeologists can weave mythology and prehistory together, but only with extreme caution,” says archaeologist Marc Vander Linden of University College London.
At most, Indo-European mythology suggests that Late Bronze Age folks regarded dogs as having magical properties and perhaps ate them in rituals of some kind, Vander Linden says. But no other archaeological sites have yielded evidence for teenage male war bands or canine-consuming initiation rites, raising doubts about Anthony and Brown’s proposed scenario, he argues.

Some ancient Indo-European myths attribute healing powers to dogs, says archaeologist Paul Garwood of the University of Birmingham in England. In those myths, dogs absorb illness from people, making the canines unfit for consumption. Perhaps ritual specialists at Krasnosamarskoe sacrificed dogs and wolves as part of healing ceremonies without eating the animals, Garwood proposes.

Dog and wolf deposits at the Russian site align with myths connecting these animals to war bands and initiation rites, not healing, Anthony responds.

Michael Witzel, an authority on ancient texts of India and comparative mythology at Harvard University, agrees. Anthony and Brown have identified the first archaeological evidence in support of ancient Indo-European myths about young, warlike “wolf-men” who lived outside of society’s laws, he says.

Excavations at Krasnosamarskoe in 1999 and 2001 yielded 2,770 dog bones, 18 wolf bones and six more bones that came from either dogs or wolves. Those finds represent 36 percent of all animal bones unearthed at the site. Dogs account for no more than 3 percent of animal bones previously unearthed at each of six other Srubnaya settlements, so canines were not typically eaten and may have been viewed as a taboo food under most circumstances, the investigators say.

Bones from dogs’ entire bodies displayed butchery marks and burned areas produced by roasting. Dogs’ heads were chopped into 3- to 7-centimeter-wide pieces using a standardized sequence of cuts. It was a brutal, ritual behavior that demanded practice and skill, Anthony asserts. Cattle and sheep or goat remains at Krasnosamarskoe also show signs of butchery and cooking but do not include any sliced-and-diced skulls.

Separate arrays of dog bones indicate that at least two initiation ceremonies, and possibly several more, occurred over Krasnosamarskoe’s 200-year history. Microscopic analyses of annual tissue layers in tooth roots of excavated animals indicated that dogs almost always had been killed in the cold half of the year, from late fall through winter. Cattle were slaughtered in all seasons, so starvation can’t explain why dogs were sometimes killed and eaten, the researchers say.

DNA extracted from teeth of 21 dogs tagged 15 as definitely male and another four as possibly male, leaving two confirmed females. A focus on sacrificing male dogs at Krasnosamarskoe is consistent with a rite of passage for young men, Anthony says.

Excavations of a Srubnaya cemetery at the Russian site produced bones of two men, two women, an adult of undetermined sex and 22 children, most between ages 1 and 7. The two men, who both displayed injuries from activities that had put intense stress on their knees, ankles and lower backs, may have been ritual specialists, the researchers speculate. These men would have directed initiation ceremonies into war bands, Anthony says.

Earthquake vibrations are revealing just how deep the continents beneath our feet go.

Researchers analyzed seismic waves from earthquakes that have rocked various regions throughout the world, including the Americas, Antarctica and Africa. In almost every place, patterns in these waves indicated a layer of partially melted material between 130 and 190 kilometers underground.

That boundary marks the bottom of continental plates, argue Saikiran Tharimena, a seismologist at the University of Southampton in England, and colleagues. Their finding, reported in the Aug. 11 Science, may help resolve a longtime debate over the thickness of Earth’s landmasses.
Estimating continental depth “has been an issue that’s plagued scientists for quite a while,” says Tim Stern, a geophysicist at Victoria University of Wellington in New Zealand, who wasn’t involved in the work. Rock fragments belched up by volcanic eruptions suggest that the rigid rock of the continents extends about 175 kilometers underground, where it sits atop slightly runnier material in Earth’s mantle. But analyses of earthquake vibrations along Earth’s surface have suggested that continents could run 200 or 300 kilometers deep, very gradually transitioning from cold, hard rock to hotter, gooier material.

That disagreement may exist, Tharimena says, because to study continental thickness, seismologists had previously analyzed fairly shallow earthquake vibrations that couldn’t show Earth’s structure in fine detail at depths greater than about 150 kilometers.
Tharimena’s team looked at waves that bounced off boundaries between different layers in Earth’s upper mantle and other waves that ricocheted off the underside of the planet’s surface before ultimately reaching the same seismometer. By measuring how long it took for each kind of wave to reach the seismometer, the researchers could map the depths and consistencies of different layers of materials in the continental plates.
The data revealed a sharp transition from rigid rock to slightly mushier material at a depth that was fairly similar for all the continents. For instance, the melt starts about 182 kilometers under South Africa and about 163 kilometers under Antarctica. This is about as deep as diamonds — thought only to reside within continents — are known to exist, leading researchers to conclude this partially melted layer marked the bottom of the continents.

Getting this global estimate for continental thickness is “a big deal,” says Brian Savage, a geophysicist at the University of Rhode Island in Kingston who wrote a commentary on this study in the same issue of Science. The finding could help scientists make better simulations of plate tectonics, which could provide insights into what Earth looked like in the past and what it might look like in the future.